


The Impossible Dream

by HunterByDayWhovianByNight



Series: Part Of The Human Heart [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Cloak POV, I Don't Even Know, Imagery, Other, Sensory Porn, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/pseuds/HunterByDayWhovianByNight
Summary: “Every broken heart has screamed at one time or another, ‘Why can’t you see who I truly am?’” - Shannon L. AlderThe cloak yearned for Stephen and yearned to belong to him even more.





	The Impossible Dream

**Author's Note:**

> My bros... Don't ask. Title is from "The Impossible Dream" from The Man of La Mancha.
> 
> ~Hunter

Stephen brushes the dirt off of me with his gentle, magical hands. Each of his soft strokes make my threads quiver and my whole self shake in the air. I've never had a master that is so kind and gentle with me, and the thought makes me soar with happiness. Even with his marred hands that still shake sometimes, he's never agitated me or touched me too roughly. I may not be able to see him, but I can  _ sense  _ every part of him when he’s near. My senses are so heightened I can make out what his appearance is like. I can feel his breathing, his voice, his mind, his spirit, his fingers. 

When he fingers my folds and ensures they crease and fall just so, part of me presses into his hand and I feel like unraveling. Nobody’s touched me in so long, they’ve just kept me locked up in that glass case, pressing against the panes and desiring someone’s touch. But then, there was Stephen; he was fighting, valiantly and nobly. His presence called to me and demanded my attention. I wanted him. I wanted to protect and cover him from any harm, I wanted to hold him in my woolen embrace as he took down his opponents with more strength than any sorcerer I had ever seen. Part of me wanted to be associated with that power, I guess, but I felt a drive to protect Stephen and be his shield. 

Sometimes, when Stephen wears me, I can’t help but cling myself to his body. I fit myself like a glove around him and it is then when I can truly sense his power and his presence. I can feel each breath he takes, and each one without fail makes me flutter. When he takes my collar and tugs on it sharply to pull it standing up, it surprises me, but there is a slight gentleness in what would otherwise be considered a rough action. Stephen would never hurt me intentionally or be harsh with me; I know he loves and cares for me. He is my owner, my master, even though it is I who chose him. I guess that’s what gives me the upper hand in our dynamic, but I am too attached to him to leave.

That first time I was on him, draped across his shoulders, I was sure I had never felt so alive and so close to power before. I could sense how he would make his next move, how he thought; being so close to him made it feel like he and I were one. And I  _ yearned  _ to be one with him, to be his second skin and his protection. 

I so desperately want to wrap myself completely around Stephen’s body, feel every part of him pressed up against my threads and have every drape fit around the lines of him. I wish he would pull me over him as he slept and curl up into my fabric so that I could feel his bare skin and sense what he dreams about. I yearn to talk to him, to respond to all the fascinating and wonderful things he has to say, but I must make do with simple and reductionist movements. I want anything and everything for my Stephen, but mostly make him feel protected. To make him feel loved in a world where anything can change, and if one has a protector, can get through the trials and tribulations and move on to the next. 

And that’s just what I’ll do for my Stephen, my Stephen Strange.


End file.
